An Alliance Of Sorts
by Bower-Of-Bliss
Summary: The day Edward and I were introduced, our parents hoped we'd form a relationship, and we did. However, it wasn't the sort of relationship they'd ever approve of.


**This was my entry fic for the 'Meet The Mate' contest. Congrats to all the winners, and well done to all of the contest organisers who had to sort through 80 entries.**

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Arm in arm, Rosie and I lean toward each other, huddling for warmth as we stand on the sidewalk, waiting to be picked up after school.

"Fuck, it's cold," I complain through chattering teeth as another chilly updraft of wind billows the back of my uniform. Hastily, I pull my hand out of my jacket pocket and reach back to smooth down my mid-thigh length plaid skirt.

"If I'd known I was going to be left standing on the sidewalk for so long, I would've changed into something warmer," Rosie gripes.

I nod in agreement. With choir class running overtime, we'd been in too much of a hurry to bother swapping out of our uniforms. Now we're sorely regretting the decision since both of our rides seem to be running late.

"This is me," Rosie says with a relieved sigh just as a black limousine signals and then pulls up to the curb.

I give her a long hug, partly as an excuse to steal some of her body warmth, but also to say goodbye. "See you next year. I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'll miss you, too."

"Remember to spare a thought for me while you're in Hawaii getting oiled up by the hot cabana boy next to the pool, you lucky bitch."

Rosie giggles and releases me. Reaching for the smallest of the suitcases gathered by her feet, she says, "I wish you were coming with me. You know my family loves you, and they're more than happy for you to join us – especially Jasper."

"Yeah, right," I huff.

"No, really. I meant to tell you that he called me last night and asked if you were coming with us. He broke up with Ali again."

I roll my eyes in response. "So what happened? Isn't she pregnant after all?"

"Oh, she's pregnant alright, but it's not his baby. He says she got herself knocked up by some guy named James. Now he's heartbroken and available."

"Serves him right," I say with a sneer.

The first time I vacationed with Rosie's family, her brother had taken my virginity in the pool house while he was on one of his so-called breaks with his on-again-off-again girlfriend. Initially, I was hurt when I found out he'd gone back to Alice. Realistically, though, with Jasper being older than me and going to school on the other side of the country, I should have known better than to think it was true love just because he fucked me.

The second time I vacationed with the Hales, last Thanksgiving, Jasper spent the first few hours after his arrival apologizing and following after me like a love-sick puppy. That was until he got a phone call from _her_ , and suddenly he was on the next plane back to New York.

"Are you sure you can't come?" Rosie pleads.

"I wish I could, but since I spent last winter break with Charlie, Renee says I have to spend this one with her and her new boyfriend. She seems to think this guy is _the one_."

Rosie laughs and snorts. "Isn't that what she said about the last three guys she married?"

"Yeah."

She shakes her head. "She's such a whore."

In the eighteen months since I've known Rosie, she has yet to meet my flaky and mostly absent mom, however, she knows more than enough to give an informed opinion.

Rosie boards with me at The Annie Wright School because her parents frequently travel for work. I board because my Dad also travels a lot, and I got sick and tired of living with an irresponsible mother who was hardly ever home to look after me or pay the bills on time. She was always off with one man or another.

My solution to the problem was to ask Uncle Aro – the trustee of Grandma Swan's estate – for an allowance to enable me to attend and board at AWS. My excuse was that I wanted to put myself through a private school that offered an International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme to give me a better chance of achieving my dream of studying at an Ivy League school. Aro thought it was a marvelous idea and released the funds.

Rosie's family driver exits the car and opens the trunk.

"Don't have too much of a good time in the sun without me," I quip.

"I'll try. Have fun freezing your tits off in the snow. Maybe you can find yourself a sexy ski instructor to keep you warm by the fireplace, or a hunky male nurse to give you a sponge bath after you break your ass on the slopes."

"Thanks a lot," I reply sarcastically, and I hug her again.

The wind whips around us, lifting the backs of our skirts again, and causing us to break apart. The driver trips on the curb, and I realize we must have given him an eyeful of bare thighs and cotton panties.

Rosie giggles and whispers next to my ear, "He's such a fucking pervert. I bet if I kiss you right now, he'll be whacking off to visions of the two of us in his head tonight."

I screw up my face in disgust and punch her on the arm. "Stop torturing the old guy."

"He's not that old. He's only twenty-eight."

"Yeah... Old enough to be someone's father."

Regaining his composure, the man in question straightens his hat and jacket and walks towards us as if nothing happened.

"You're late, Emmett," Rosie reprimands.

"Sorry, Miss Hale, it was the traffic," he says in reply while picking up her suitcases. He turns on his heel and heads back to the car.

"Call me every chance you can get," she says, giving me another quick hug."

"I will."

Rain begins to fall as the car signals to drive off. I wave a final good-bye to my friend as they merge with the traffic. Seeking some semblance of shelter, I grab my bags and walk toward the bricked archway that houses the school sign. Reaching inside my pocket, I grab my phone to call Renee.

She answers after the fifth ring. "Isabella?"

"Are you coming to get me? School finished forty minutes ago," I snap.

"We're here. Where are you?"

"I'm standing out the front – under the school sign."

"We're waiting parked out the front."

I look toward the road. There are two parked cars, but both appear empty. "What does the car look like?"

"It's a red Honda CRV with ski racks on the roof."

I look up and down the road, but there are no cars of that description. "Are you sure you're at the right school?"

"Of course I'm sure," she huffs. "I'm looking directly at it – Charles Wright Academy."

Shaking my head in frustration, I close my eyes and count to ten before replying. "I go to the Annie Wright School, Mom. It's on North Tacoma Avenue."

"Oops. Sorry." I hear muffled voices in the background, as though the mouthpiece of the phone has been covered. I can't make out what's being discussed. Coming back on the line, she says, "Okay, hang tight. We'll be there in a minute."

"Whatever." I end the call without saying goodbye and stuff my phone back in my pocket.

The Charles Wright Academy is at least twenty minutes away from here, so I pick up my bags and head for the alcove of the main entrance to get out of the pouring rain.

-0-0-0-0-0-

After waiting for more than thirty minutes, I see a red car pull up at the curb. Whoever Renee's new love interest is, he must be a snow sports fanatic because I can see at least four sets of skis and two snowboards strapped to the racks.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder, pick up my suitcases and begin to trudge towards the car, thankful that the earlier downpour has slowed to a misty shower. The driver-side door opens, and a handsome blonde man gets out and opens an umbrella. He runs toward me, and we meet halfway.

"Here." Handing me the umbrella and taking my suitcases from me, he says, "Hi, Isabella. I'm Carlisle Cullen. I'm your mom's fiancé." He gives me a beaming smile, showing me a set of teeth, which are so incredibly white, that I'm not even sure they're real.

"Hi," I respond, trying to hide the shock in my voice. "And it's Bella. No one but Renee calls me Isabella."

"It's great to meet you. Your mom has told me so much about you."

 _Yeah, right._ "So, when did you two get engaged?"

He chuckles. "Quite recently – last night, in fact. I popped the question over dinner, and she said yes."

 _Of course she said yes – she always does_. Out of all the husbands and near-miss husbands since Renee divorced my dad, this guy is probably the nicest looking one so far, despite the glow-in-the-dark teeth.

"Shall we?" he asks, indicating with a swing of my suitcase that we should be heading for the car.

"Of course."

Feeling numb from the cold, and the news that Renee is engaged, I hold the umbrella over myself and Carlisle. As we walk along the paved path to the curb, I grind my teeth in annoyance. I'm pissed that I'm going to have to find a way to destroy yet another of Renee's engagements before it's too late, and she ends up taking the poor schmuck for all he's worth.

Carlisle opens the back of the car and tosses in my backpack and the umbrella, but there's already so much luggage, there's no room for my suitcases.

"Hmm. I guess we packed more than we thought," he says sheepishly. "Never mind, I'm sure we'll find some space for your bags somewhere between the Christmas gifts and all of your mom's art supplies."

I roll my eyes in derision. I have no idea why she's brought her art crap on vacation when we're meant to be skiing. Besides, Renee's attempts at art are amateurish and laughable. She calls herself an artist just because she sold a painting once, two years ago. I think it was a fluke.

As we move toward the rear passenger door, the front door opens and Renee steps out. She smiles, and I startle at seeing her face.

"Isabella," she gushes effusively, waving her bangle-adorned arms out in front of her as if she expects me to step into her embrace. "Come and hug your mother."

I leave her hanging and firmly stand my ground with my arms at my sides. Firstly, if she thinks I'm going to hug her, she can forget it. Until Monday last week – when she demanded that I spend winter break with her – she hadn't bothered to contact me in the previous three months. Secondly, I'm glued to the spot because I'm horrified at what I see.

"You look… different," I say when she pulls back to take in my own appearance. _Yes. That's a polite way of putting it._

"I decided to do something new with my hair," she says, pulling the strands from behind her shoulders to hang down the length of her chest. Gone is the shoulder-length blond bob that my mother has always favored, replaced by long, black waves. It makes her usually pale complexion appear even whiter. She's also lost quite a bit of weight, but that's not the most disturbing part.

"What happened to your teeth?" I ask, trying to rein in a grimace.

Renee puts a hand up to touch her mouth. "I had them fixed. Carlisle said my teeth were too big for my mouth and also yellowed, so they made me look older. What do you think of them?" she asks, giving me an uncertain smile.

"I think they look creepy – like someone attacked your mouth with a nail file and a bottle of Wite-Out."

"It's early days; some of the coloration just needs to mellow," she says defensively.

"Whatever you say, Bride of Dracula. Just don't ever go in the sunlight, or you'll disintegrate and turn into a pile of ashes. I'd also avoid dance clubs or else your freaky teeth will glow neon under the black lights."

From the inside of the car, I hear the sound of a soft chuckle. Turning to look for the source of the laughter, I can only see the back of Carlisle as he wrestles with a large art canvas.

"Don't be so mean to me, Isabella," I hear my mother chastise beside me. "I have a right to do whatever makes me feel good about myself."

While ignoring her justification at self-mutilation, I see the briefest glimpse of eyes peering at me through the jumble of suitcases, canvases, and easels that are taking up most of the rear passenger seats.

"Who's that in the back seat?" I ask, trying to get a better look but failing.

"That's Carlisle's son. We had no idea he was flying in from Philly until he turned up on the doorstep this morning. Carlisle insisted he should come along with us," she explains.

Finally succeeding at sliding the large canvas inside the car, so that it lies against the backs of the front seats, Carlisle places my suitcases on the rear seat. He then tosses a duffle bag on top of everything before closing the door with a shove.

I stare at the rear window of the car in disbelief. Inside, it's jam-packed to the roof.

"So, where in the hell am I supposed to sit?" I ask as Carlisle rounds the car. "The ski racks?"

"I suppose you'll have to get in on the other side and sit on my son's lap," Carlisle answers with a one-shouldered shrug.

"No way!" I protest, turning to Renee for support. "That's unsafe. What if we get into an accident?"

"Stop being such a baby and get in. It's just a short trip," she says flippantly.

"What if we get pulled over by the police? Just let me call Rosie. The Hales are more than willing to let me spend the holidays with them at their vacation home. If I call her now, their driver will turn around and pick me up." Uncertain as to how the pre-holiday traffic is going to impact our travel time to Crystal Mountain, I fold my arms over my chest and continue. "Besides, I'm not going to sit on some strange guy's lap for an hour and a half – or more."

"He's not a stranger; he's Carlisle's son," Renee says, walking towards the front passenger-side door. "And you may as well get to know him because he's going to be your step-brother one day."

 _Like hell he is._ "Well, he's a stranger to me," I counter. "What if he doesn't want me sitting on his lap?"

"I'm sure he won't mind," Carlisle says with nonchalance, opening his door.

Renee gets into the car and kneels on her seat. Peering over the top of the large canvas, she says, "You don't mind, do you? I mean, Isabella could stand to lose a few pounds, but I'm sure you're strong enough to take the weight."

"Mom!"

Clearly, she's pissed at me over my Bride of Dracula comments, and I grit my teeth in anger at her cheap shot at retaliation. I'm curvy; I have hips, thighs, tits, and an ass – a perfect, shapely ass, according to Jasper. I'm in the healthy weight range for my height and frame, and Rosie says I look hot in a bathing suit. In no uncertain terms am I overweight. Not even close.

"Get in the goddamn car this instant!" Renee shrieks at me, completely losing her cool. "You're going to make us late for check in and our dinner reservation!" She slams the door shut.

"Jesus, get a grip," I mutter under my breath, deciding to get in the car just to shut her up and get out of the cold. _We're only booking into a fucking ski lodge, not getting on a plane._

Carlisle starts the car, as I walk around to the other side. I wrench the door open in fury; however, my anger abates when I see the gorgeous face of a green-eyed guy looking up at me with an apologetic expression.

"Hi! I'm Bella Swan. I'll be your lap warmer for the duration of this ride," I say in a sardonic tone.

He snickers. "Hello, Bella. I'm Edward Cullen, and I guess I'll be your car seat and seat belt," he says, opening his arms wide.

"Okay, how are we going to do this?" I ask in all seriousness. "How do you want me?"

There is a devilish glint in his eyes, but he seems to school his thoughts before replying, "Maybe it's best if you sit on my thighs – side-saddle – with your back to the window."

Doing as he asks, I struggle my way into the car and close the door behind me. I've barely gotten seated when Carlisle takes off at speed, and the car's sudden velocity causes my breasts to press up against Edward's chest.

"Sorry," I mutter, adjusting myself to an upright position to lean against the door.

"Don't worry about it," he replies in a slightly husky voice. "This is entirely my dad's fault. If he hadn't forced me to come along…"

"No, it's not. If it weren't for all of Renee's crap, there'd be plenty of room for the both of us. I just hope I don't get car sick and throw up all over you since I can't see out of the windows to see where we're going."

"Yeah. Please don't do that," he pleads. "Unfortunately, I'm an empathetic vomiter."

The minutes tick by and it's awkward as hell as Renee tries to engage me in a conversation. Thanks to her blank art canvas acting like a privacy screen, I can't see to the front of the car. When possible, I answer her in one-worded replies just to annoy her. Eventually, Carlisle tells Renee to turn off the radio and to put on a CD. Debussy's Clair de Lune starts to play loudly through the speaker system, and I roll my eyes.

"Boring," I mutter.

"Not a fan of the classics?" Edward asks.

I shake my head. "Can't stand them."

"What sort of music do you like?"

"Lots of stuff."

"Like what?" he presses.

I shrug. "Too many to list." An idea comes to mind, and I pull my phone out of my pocket. I bring up the music app and hand it to him. "See?"

He scrolls through my music library of over 2000 songs. "You like the Beastie Boys a lot," he says, looking impressed.

"What's not to like? Do you?"

"Hell, yeah," he replies. Unzipping the front of his jacket, he reveals a soft, gray T-shirt with a red Beastie Boys logo on the front, and I smile.

"Wanna listen?" I ask, fishing inside my jacket's inside pocket to pull out a set of earbuds.

Nodding in enthusiasm, he takes the earbuds from my hand and inserts the jack end into my phone. "What's your favorite Beastie Boys song?" he asks, his thumb hovering over the screen.

"I have a playlist of all my favorites." I take the phone out of his hand and search for it. After hitting the shuffle icon, I hand him the right earbud and insert the left into my own ear.

The drum beat of _High Plains Drifter_ begins to play, and on instinct, I nod in rhythm to the beat. Edward's head starts to do the same, and we smile at each other. As we sit, listening to music in the backseat in our own private bubble, I feel myself relaxing. Edward seems like a nice guy, and I think I'm going to enjoy getting to know him, even if I have to break his poor dad's heart in the future.

Forty minutes into our journey, I recall something Renee said earlier, and I press pause after listening to _3-Minute Rule_. "So, you flew in from Philadelphia?" I ask.

"Yeah, I go to school there."

"What are you studying?"

"Veterinary Medicine. I'm in my first year."

I feel my eyebrows rise at this piece of news. "Really? Where?"

"Penn."

"You're kidding me." He shakes his head. "Well, you just might see me there next year," I tell him. "Penn is right up there near the top of my wish list, along with Harvard."

"Why? What are you planning on studying?"

"Medicine – with humans, though, not animals. I want to become a cardio-thoracic surgeon." He chuckles at my answer and I frown. "What's so funny?" I ask, offended that he might believe I'm not smart enough to succeed in a predominantly male medical field. "Don't you think I've got what it takes to get in? Just because I'm female, it doesn't mean I'm afraid of hard work, or that I'll go into a swoon at the sight of blood!"

He shakes his head. "That's not it at all. I wasn't laughing at you. It's just that after I'd shattered my dad's dreams by informing him that I didn't apply to Penn to become a dentist like him, he pushed for me to do medicine. He actually wanted me to consider becoming a Cosmetic Surgeon so we could eventually open a clinic together."

"And you didn't want that?"

"No way. I prefer the company of animals to people. According to my Dad, becoming a vet is a shitty compromise, even though I'll still have the title of _Doctor_ attached to my name."

I nod in sympathy. "My mom's not supportive at all. She thinks I'm deluding myself, but it's what I've wanted to do from the time I was ten years old. Eventually, I'd like to go into research. I want to find better treatment options or maybe even a cure for pulmonary fibrosis."

"Why that particular disease?" he asks.

"My grandmother died from it. It was an awful thing to watch her struggle for every breath."

Edward gazes at me warmly, and I see nothing but admiration in his eyes. I'm the first to look away when the awkwardness of our situation returns, and I glance back to my phone and press play. The music continues for two more songs until I'm confident enough in Edward's company to ask another question.

"So... your dad's a dentist…" I begin after pausing the music.

Edward nods. "Cosmetic Dentist."

"Is that how they met? Did he do that shit to my mom's teeth?" He nods again, but this time the expression he gives me is one of uneasiness. "What?" I ask, wondering why he's looking at me in this way. Briefly, I wonder if his legs are starting to fall asleep under the weight of me.

"I'll talk to you about our parents later," he says, leaning in close to whisper the words.

The feeling of his mouth so close to my ear causes an involuntary shiver of desire, and I wriggle on his lap to hide my reaction. In response to my movement, I hear a soft groan come from Edward's throat, and he closes his eyes in pain.

"I'm sorry. Your poor legs must be starved of circulation under my fat ass!" I say loud enough that Carlisle and Renee can hear me over the sound of Vivaldi. Turning to face the front, I begin to lift my butt by pulling on the handhold above the window with my left hand. With my other hand, I reach over the art canvas and grab on to the top of the headrest of the driver's seat. "This really was a stupid idea. Our parents are so thoughtless and irresponsible," I complain loudly. "Poor Edward; he may never be able to walk again!"

Edward grasps my hips and pulls me back onto his lap.

"Edward!" I hiss in protest.

"My legs are fine," he says in a hushed voice. "And your ass isn't fat, although it is problematic for me."

I struggle against his grip in an effort to turn around, but his large hands are holding me in place. "Edward, I-" I start to say, but then I feel what the problem is. _Oh!_ I wiggle my hips, testing the notion that his cock might be hardening directly beneath my ass and that only three or four layers of fabric are separating me from Mister Happy. The delicious sound that comes from deep within his chest sends a bolt of desire racing through my veins, and he grips my hips even harder.

"Stop moving," he moans softly.

"I'm just going to turn around to get comfortable," I say, giving him fair warning of my intentions.

After a moment, his hands release me from their vise-like grip. Using as much pressure and friction as I'm capable of, I turn my body, so I'm once again sitting side-on. For good measure, I add in another wiggle as if I'm trying to get properly situated. This causes another soft moan to escape from his lips. When I look at Edward's face to monitor his reaction, I'm rewarded by the sight of flushed cheeks, parted lips, and dilated pupils. I give him a not-so-innocent smile.

His mouth leans in toward my ear, and while I expect he's going to chastise me for teasing him, I'm surprised when I feel his head dip lower. His lips then begin to brush the side of my neck in a series of lingering, open-mouthed kisses, and the feeling of his soft tongue on my skin only fuels my desire. Without realizing it, my hands have found their way into his hair, holding him to me. His oral perusal of my neck ends with a playful nip to my earlobe, and I giggle quietly as I release him and pull away.

Our eyes lock, and it's then that I come to realize that the attraction is truly mutual. Unfortunately, I also come to the realization that if I can't split up Renee and Carlisle, Edward is going to end up as my step-brother.

On that depressing thought, I pick up my phone and hit play. I just know Renee won't be too happy if she finds out I like Edward more than a soon-to-be step-sibling should. Closing my eyes, I hope and pray that I can come up with a plan. I can't make it too obvious that it's me who keeps on purposely fucking up her relationships.

My inner musings are interrupted when I hear Renee say, "You should stop here for gas. This is the last place to get fuel before going up the mountain."

"Okay," Carlisle agrees.

We come to a stop, and Carlisle gets out of the car to fill the tank. Just as he enters the store to pay, I call out, "Mom?"

"Yes, Isabella?"

"I'm really thirsty. Can you go to the store and buy me a Coke?"

"Can't you wait a bit longer? We don't have far to go."

"Actually, Renee, I could really do with something to drink too," Edward pipes in.

"Alright, then. What would you like?" she asks.

I snort in derision. She was happy to make me wait but caved at Edward's request. _Typical, Renee._

Edward, noticing my displeasure, snickers. "I'll have a Coke, too, if that's okay."

Renee leaves, and as soon as her door closes, Edward's lips are instantly on my own.

His kiss is desperate and frenzied, and I return it with equal fervor. My hands creep up inside his T-shirt to brush against the smooth skin over his hard abs.

As one hand grips the back of my neck, his other hand slides under the hem of my skirt and moves along my bare thigh. Mentally, I coax his hand to reach higher, into my panties, but he stays an inch short of the promised land.

I start writhing sinuously on Edward's lap, eliciting moans and a few upward thrusts of his hips. A whimper escapes my throat before we finally tear our mouths away from each other to take a much-needed breath.

Edward looks at me with a lustful gaze and says, "I've wanted to do that from the moment I heard you call Renee the Bride Of Dracula."

I laugh. "Really?"

He nods. "Yeah. Until today, I've never felt such an instant connection to someone. He kisses me again, but this time the kiss is languid and sweet, and when our lips part, he rests his forehead against mine. "Our parents need to break up. We can't allow them to get married."

I pull back to gauge if he is serious. From the looks of him, it seems he is.

"Absolutely. I was actually thinking the same thing. It's like you're reading my mind. We must stop them."

Edward smiles. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that." Moving his head to the side, he peers through the window and frowns. "They're coming back," he says, and much to my disappointment, he removes his hand from my thigh.

I remove my own hands from Edward's body and try to compose myself. When Renee knocks on the window, he lowers it and takes the Cokes from her grasp.

After opening one of the bottles, he passes it to me before opening his own. Drinking thirstily, I pick up my phone, which was carelessly cast aside during our kiss-grope session. As I look at my playlist, inspiration hits, and I set my phone on my lap and pass him an earbud. He inserts it into his ear. I press play, and the guitar riff of the Beastie Boys song, _Sabotage_ , begins.

"Here's to the start of _Operation-Sabotage-The-Parents_ ," I say quietly, holding my bottle before me.

He gives me a mischievous grin and clinks his bottle against mine before giving me a kiss.

Against my lips, he says, "To Operation Sabotage, and then, if we're successful, we'll move on to _Operation-Edward-and-Bella_."

"Yeah. Edward and Bella, forever."


End file.
